Beauty and the Sheikh (11 page)

The thought reminded him of the first time he’d planned to take her there, and it dampened his mood even more.

A sharp knock sounded on the door to the penthouse suite and with a reluctant sigh, Rafiq turned and went to answer it. 

“Your Majesty.” One of his assistant’s bowed, her gaze lowered. “I have brought the personnel you’ve requested.” 

“Thank you. Please, come in.” He stepped back and gestured for the woman and the two ladies behind her to enter.

“What’s going on?”

Footsteps sounded behind him and Rafiq turned to find Holly standing in the doorway. The white, plush hotel robe was cinched around her tiny waist and her hair fell heavy and wet over her shoulders. She was hardly petite, and yet the one word that flitted through his mind was fragile. 

“Ah, Holly, this is Minnah. She is the daughter to one of my advisors and she has brought with her someone who will be able to tend to your beauty needs. Nails, hair—whatever you want, they are at your disposal.” He gave a dismissive wave and glanced at his watch. “I have a meeting, but tonight we will be dining with an investor. I will trust you to be ready by seven and meet us in the restaurant downstairs. Understood,
habiba
?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Rafiq blinked. Surely she couldn’t resent this gift of pampering? Even if so, how foolish was she to respond so disrespectfully in front of the ladies he’d hired on her behalf? “Of course you do. This is an indulgence, hardly a punishment.”

“Indulgence.” She gave a small, humorless laugh and looked away. “Don’t worry, Rafiq, I will be ready.” 

“I have little doubt otherwise.” He crossed the room and lowered his mouth just above hers, sliding a possessive hand to her hip in the appearance of a lovers’ embrace. “You forget we have an audience. Never question me like that again when we are not alone.”

His intimate tone guaranteed only she heard, and it seemed she hadn’t realized how harmful her public defiance had been because she drew her bottom lip between her teeth. 

“I’m sorry,” she said on a breath.

Instead of continuing the quiet discussion, he pressed his lips against hers in a long, deliberate kiss. When he lifted his eyes, he stared down at her and found her lashes lowered and her mouth parted. A wave of triumph swept through him, because he knew with pure male instinct that she was not faking, even with their audience.

“I will see you at dinner.” He turned and left the suite.

“I have to admit I had my doubts, Sheikh, that my investment in your vision would pay off.” 

Rafiq offered a slight smile at Byron Olsen and lifted his glass of brandy, taking another sip. Without investors such as the wealthy oil tycoon from America, Raljahar may very well have fallen into ruin.

“But now, a decade later, your little country is thriving. I hear it’s quite the popular destination for not only the Europeans, but the rich Americans as well.” The man leaned forward and grinned. “Tell me, Sheikh, is that how you were reacquainted with Miss Winchester?”

Holly
. Rafiq’s grip on his glass tightened as he cast another glance down the hallway to where the restrooms were located. She’d excused herself moments ago after finishing dinner. He’d scarcely been able to take his eyes off her the entire meal, had forced himself to keep his attention on his investor. “Miss Winchester had business in Raljahar when our paths crossed once more.” 

“You are one lucky bastard, I tell you.” The tycoon pursed his lips and looked off into the distance. “They don’t make them like that anymore. She reminds me of that old-school-Hollywood glamorous type. Gorgeous girl.” 

Rafiq made a grunt of agreement, even if he wasn’t thrilled with the direction of the conversation.

“She’s worth every penny too, I hear.”

Stilling, a cold, violent rage worked through Rafiq’s blood. Worth every penny? In what way? And how in the hell would the American have any idea of Holly’s
worth
?

“Is there something you’d like to share with me, Byron?” he asked, his silky tone infused with ice.

“No. Good God, no!” Byron’s eyes widened. “It’s nothing like that. I mean, I haven’t slept with her or anything. Forgive me, Sheikh Hakimi—I believe the alcohol has made my lips loose. I meant no disrespect. I’d just heard…” 

Rafiq didn’t reply but stared the other man down until he paled and excused himself, mumbling something about having a cigarette. 

It was common knowledge the American kept company with the celebrity sorts, but to hear his crude words about Holly made Rafiq reconsider his future in working with the man.

And unfortunately he suspected where those very rumors about Holly had originated. Likely with Rafiq himself. After he’d banished her from his country two years ago, the rumor mill had gone wild. He’d tipped off a tabloid source to the unpleasant conversation in the room, and just as he’d intended, it hadn’t taken long before Holly’s reputation had plummeted into the dodgy category. Though it wouldn’t have made her the first model to appear in the papers behaving badly, and hardly seemed likely to have been a career-killer. 

And yet she’d disappeared from the industry shortly after. Because of him? A prick of guilt assailed him, one that wasn’t unfamiliar to him when he thought of Holly’s career. The past two years could not have been easy for her, with her brother’s irresponsibility, dwindling finances, and her struggle to adjust to her non-modeling life. 

Rafiq lifted his drink to take another sip, his fingers tightening around the glass. Before he could drink, his gaze landed on Holly as she reappeared in the hallway.

His breath caught and the patrons around him seemed to fade to black. All he saw was Holly, fidgeting with her clutch and looking as if she were going to the gallows as she made her way back to him.

His heart knocked around in his chest like a ball at a rugby match, and his mouth grew suddenly dry. It was the same reaction he’d had when she first entered the restaurant. Holly was absolutely stunning. She had to be the most beautiful woman in the restaurant right now. In all of Monaco.

The dress she wore was one he’d arranged for her wardrobe. Long, blue and strappy, it clung in the right places and flowed elegantly in others. It highlighted her curves with each confident step she took. 

But despite her confidence, he could easily spot the glimmer of reluctance in her gaze. Desolation. And he wanted it gone. Didn’t want to see it in Holly’s eyes when she looked at him.

He didn’t want to fight anymore. What happened two years ago was in the past; it would do neither of them any good to keep arguing about it and holding the bitter memories close to their hearts.

From this moment, he would put the past behind him. He needed to try and make a fresh start between them, or the next three months would be hellish for certain.

And pleasure seemed a much better alternative.

Chapter 9

Rafiq stood and pulled out a chair for her. “Welcome back.”

“Thank you.” Holly cast a quick glance at the empty seat and sat. “Mr. Olsen has disappeared?”

He took his seat again, unable to drag his gaze away from her. Holly’s hair fell in a shiny, chestnut curtain around her shoulders, ending just above the creamy swell of her breasts. Her makeup only emphasized her crystal blue eyes and full mouth.

“He’s stepped out for a moment and may or may not want to return.” He hoped for the latter. Reaching across the table, he caught her hand. “Have I told you tonight how beautiful you are?”

Her gaze lifted to his and pleasure flickered briefly in her eyes, then it was gone. “Thank you. I should be, after all the trouble you went through to have me made up.”

“It was no trouble, and you are beautiful without the makeup.” He smoothed his thumb over one manicured and shiny nail. “Without the polish and glamour. You are just as breathtaking in lounge pants and a ponytail.”

Her eyes widened and her lips twitched in amusement. “Have you seen me in lounge pants and a ponytail, Rafiq?”

“Once. The paparazzi snapped a photo of you retrieving your mail a few years back, I believe.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Of course that would be the one you saw.”

“I saw most of them.”

Holly’s amusement faded and she slid her gaze back to Rafiq. Her heart did a little stumble at the lack of enmity there. She’d grown so accustomed to seeing it that to have it be absent and replaced with a gentle, yet open, unfiltered desire took her breath away. “Rafiq…”

“Sorry about that.” Byron Olsen slid back into his seat and folded his hands on the table. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long. Was anyone interested in dessert?”

Holly bit back a sigh as dessert was ordered and the two men resumed their business discussion. 

She wasn’t even sure what she’d been about to say before Mr. Olsen had arrived again. An apology? An invitation? The answer settled with an inevitability that took her breath away. 

She wanted to make love to Rafiq. Had wanted to for so long, but now it was like a mantra drumming in her heart.

As the evening continued, she found her gaze again and again flitting to Rafiq, focusing on the hard lines of his face, the dark intensity of his gaze as he discussed business. She didn’t hear his words though as images slipped through her head of what it would be like if she invited him to her bed tonight. Did she have the courage? Would she regret it afterward?

She reached for her wine glass the same moment a hand slid onto her knee. Knowing Rafiq was on the opposite side of her, it left only one person who could be touching her. A gasp of shock ripped from her throat and her hands jerked, knocking against her glass. The glass tipped, spreading wine everywhere, including her dress.

“I’m sorry.” She pushed her chair back and then stood up, relieved when Mr. Olsen’s hand slid off her.

What a pig
. 

Her hands were unsteady as she tried to blot the growing stain on her dress. “I’m so clumsy. God, I’m so sorry.”

Rafiq was beside her in a moment, handing her his napkin. “Holly, it’s all right.”

She glanced up, still in shock from the other man’s blatant advance, though she shouldn’t have been. Suddenly she became aware that half the restaurant had turned to watch the spectacle. 

“I’ll just run to the washroom and clean up.” Trying to keep some composure, she turned and practically ran from the table.

In the bathroom she dabbed cold water against the stain, but it was hopeless. The dress was going to take some serious dry cleaning to fix.

Holly gripped the edge of the sink and stared into the mirror. She hated this—hated being back in a situation where she’d be exposed to self-entitled creeps like Byron Olsen.

Enough was enough for the night. She’d just go back to the table and tell Rafiq she was going to bed. Plead a headache if necessary. 

She turned and opened the bathroom door—and then nearly ran into the man she was trying to avoid.

“I’m sorry I made you spill your drink, Miss Winchester.” A knowing smile spread over Byron’s face.

Had he followed her? 

Holly’s gaze shot beyond him down the dim hall that led back to the restaurant. For a moment she was ready to bolt back into the bathroom, but there’d been no one in there and it was even more isolated. “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Olsen, I’d like to return to the table.”

“Rafiq’s taking care of the check.” He stepped closer. “You can’t honestly believe he’ll keep you around long, doll. Everybody knows about your past with him. He’s screwing you for revenge at best.”

Wow, this night just got worse by the minute. Swallowing the frustration in her throat, Holly tried to push past him.

Byron blocked her path and stepped closer until her back was against the bathroom door. “Why don’t you just listen to what I have to say first?” 

“Because I have a pretty good idea what you’re going to say, so no, I don’t think I will.”

“That’s the trouble with you pretty ones. Always trying to think.” His gaze was bright with lust as it swept over her body. “I know you must be accustomed to a certain lifestyle. And I can be the one to give it to you. When your little Sheikh friend tires of you, why don’t you give me a call and I’m sure we can come to some kind of arrangement.”

His hand slid to her hip and Holly snapped. She went to shove him away, but before her hands could connect he was jerked backward. 

“You dare try to take what is mine, you fool?” Rafiq gripped him by the shoulder and shoved him forcefully against the wall.

Holly sagged against the door in relief even as the dark savagery on Rafiq’s face sent a chill through her.

“Sheikh Hakimi, I-I meant no disrespect.” Byron’s face drained of color as he struggled to loosen Rafiq’s grip on his suit.

“That’s twice you’ve said that now. You disrespect me by your presence alone. Leave here.” Rafiq thrust him aside. “And consider our business relationship terminated.”

Holly blinked in shock. Rafiq would destroy a business relationship over this?

The other man’s face drained of color. “You can’t do that. I’ve sunk millions into your casino!”

“I’ll send you a refund check. We no longer need your money.”

“Now, hold on just a minute. You can’t do this.”

“I asked you to leave. Get out of my face before I make you regret that you didn’t.”

Fear reflected in Byron’s eyes, before he shook his head and stumbled out of the hallway. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyers, you monstrous bastard.”

“I’m sure I will. They can have tea with mine,” Rafiq snarled, even though the other man likely couldn’t hear him anymore. Rafiq turned his attention to her and she flinched at the rage still on his face. A crowd had begun to gather at the end of the hall, talking to one another in whispers.

“Rafiq—”

“Upstairs to our room. Now,” he said tersely as he took her arm. “Before the paparazzi arrives. No doubt they’re already on their way, and another scandal is the last thing I need.”

She didn’t protest as he led her past the group of people and toward the elevator. A ball of dread gathered in her stomach, growing with each step they took toward the penthouse.